


The Illness

by Story__Satan



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Acceptance, Angst, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Fujioka Family, Host Club Family, Illness, Jumping to Conclusions, Life Lessons, Loss, Love, Other, Understanding, fluff/angst, positivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:11:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Story__Satan/pseuds/Story__Satan
Summary: Haruhi takes a moment to think and reflect on her life, on her family as it was then, and as it is now. It all happens because of one minor instance of jumping to conclusions.





	The Illness

“Hey, Boss! Why don’t you stop eating that commoners’ ramen and help us with the party planning?” Hikaru had began, turning his head toward the brooding blond, his right hand remaining on the table.

Kaoru followed this movement with a creepy amount of precision, before chiming in directly after his twin, as if to finish their thought. “Does it really bother you that Princess Kasuga has taken a liking to Haruhi?”

“He shouldn’t be surprised,” the Ootori son commented, eyes never straying from the screen of his laptop, while his fingers diligently clickered and clackered away at the keys before him.

Honey had been quite enamoured by such a skill, as he and Mori watched Haruhi turn and raise an eyebrow at such a phrase. If only he could type that fast, never mind talk at the same time, in perfectly planned-out and coherent sentences.

“She has had the illness for a while now, hasn’t she?”

Fujioka’s heart panged painfully in her chest. Illness? What illness? Kasugazaki had seemed perfectly fine when she had met her earlier. Her skin was a healthy shade, she didn’t seem fatigued and she appeared quite comfortable all the while. So, what did he mean?

It brought her to think of her mother. Though she had always smiled brightly for Haruhi, whenever she would visit her during her last days, Kotoko had seemed fatigued, uncomfortable and paler than usual.

She was reminded of the photo that sat proudly in the centre of the shrine at home. Her mother had always smiled. She had been a fighter all her life, and it had really shown until the very end.

That brought her to think of her father. He had taken it so hard, and at the time, Haruhi had been too young to understand the pain of loss, so he had felt the need to keep all of his emotions as one thrashing, kicking and screaming internal turmoil. And he always worked his hardest, which is why Haruhi made sure he was well rested, well fed, and as well in the mind as possible. It was her turn to look after him, as he had done, and still continued to do, for her during her entire life.

She had thought about the moment she had fully understood what had happened to her mother; alone in the apartment, Haruhi had been talking away to her mother over a bowl of rice and vegetables, and before she knew it she was awash in a pool of tears.

That was the only time she had blubbered and cried about her mother’s loss. Life was too busy for her tears, and her mother never wanted her to remain saddened every time she thought of her for the rest of her life. So after that one time, no matter how desperate she was to cry over the life that Kotoko had the potential to live, Haruhi had forced herself to smile while reflecting about the life she had lived, and the time they had shared in the company of one another. Mum, Dad and Haruhi.

So, having been drowning in the wave of memories and musings, Haruhi had surprised herself when the question had burst through her lips: “What illness?”

Her mind centred on the memory - which was slowly flaking away as the years went by, purely due to how young she had been at the time - of holding her ear up to the door of her parents’ (then) shared room, and she listened as they discussed her mother’s initial diagnosis. Haruhi had remembered being tempted to burst into the room and hug them both, hoping to make their tears go away. She had been wise enough, however, not to because she wasn’t supposed to be out of bed. Her mother had been telling Ryoji everything she had hoped for Haruhi to achieve when she was gone, and her father had promised Kotoko that he would never love another woman again, as no one would ever compare.

Haruhi was glad that his phrasing had been so precise; due to the ambiguity of his orientation, her father could still fall in love again, if he ever decided to. And she only wanted him to be happy, having shouldered such a heavy existence for so long, because he only deserved all of the happiness the world could offer him.

So, if Kasugazaki had a potentially life threatening illness, Haruhi knew that she would have to step up her hosting game in order to fulfill as much of Kanako’s happiness as she possibly could. It might be tough, but if she could bring even one smile out of the girl, Haruhi would deem herself a worthy host.

Would it make her mother proud, she wondered? Would she be able to carry a burden as big as her father had? Was it even reminiscent of her dad’s struggles?

But as quickly as the decision had arrived and the questions arose, the entire situation fell from under her feet the moment Hikaru opened his mouth again.

“She’s got the host-hopping disease.” He shrugged, keeping both of his bent arms up.

Again, mirroring his twins motions, and finishing their shared thought, Kaoru said: “AKA: Never the same boy twice disease.”

Ah, right.

Haruhi didn’t have any reason to worry about the girl, or those around her; Kasugazaki was healthy. That was a relief.

Kyoya took a mental note of the way Haruhi’s shoulders dropped. He mused to himself about having to coax Tamaki to find a better term for host-hopping.

The term he had originally coined had struck a bad chord with their natural type host, so it was for the best, in case of future reference.

Soon enough, Tamaki had picked himself out of his corner of woe and had put his everlasting energy supply to work, beginning to formulate a strategy. When answering the question on everyone’s mind (“Which one?"), he had struck another chord with Haruhi, but this time for the better.

“Men, it is our responsibility, as members of the elite Ouran Host Club, to make every girl happy.”

Throughout the remainder of the week, this phrase worked on Haruhi. Even as she continued to practice the waltz, she thought about it. In classes, she thought about it. During her walk from and to school, she continued to think about it.

Her conclusion happened to come to her after the great, huge _accident _ that had happened toward the end of the night, her hand hovering over of mouth. Under the excited screeching of the ladies, Haruhi properly processed that damned phrase.

“I never would have thought I’d end up giving my first kiss to another girl. But it was such an amazing night. So, I guess it’s just as well,” thought the brunette.

It really was their responsibility, as members of the elite Ouran Host Club, to make every girl happy.

She glanced over to Kasugazaki and Suzushima; they were smiling. The ladies were smiling too.

And though she hated to admit it, behind her palm, Haruhi found that her own lips were curled up into the smallest of amused smirks.

Now, only one question remained. Her gaze tilted up, way beyond the bell tower or the sky or the stars.

For just a moment she doubted it. But only just that moment.

Because Haruhi knew, no matter how close nor far she was, her mother always smiled upon her and her father.

Kotoko was proud of the people her husband and daughter had become. She always would be.

END.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. I wrote it at 2 AM. If you liked it, let me know. 😊


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